


Incomplete Circle

by namio



Series: Cyclical [3]
Category: AR∀GO ロンドン市警特殊犯罪捜査官 | Arago
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Drabble Collection, M/M, Post-Canon, do not actually ask me it is three am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namio/pseuds/namio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Situations repeat, he supposed, but they don't.</p>
<p>Seth and Oz reflect on their relationship, both in the past and in the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incomplete Circle

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha please sasve me from these two

What he had with Sam was something sweet and pure.

It was kind of hard to remember that when he was with Seth-- they were both whirlwinds of fire, of conviction and belief and idealism, but there was a difference. They were both two boys beaten by the world, but there was a difference. Sam was shaded a bit brighter, sweeter, and well. Well, Seth had pulled out a metal rod out of his stomach with a bit of sadistic glee. that was all he could say about it.

But at the same time, he couldn’t say that he didn’t appreciate the honesty it was with Seth.

“You are being moronic, and now I have to keep saving you,” Seth said as he let Oz back onto the ground. Oz held back a grin as his legs gave up beneath him, too limp to bear his weight anymore. Seth sighed and whipped up Sluagh Ghairm again to lift him to bed, before flying the first aid kit in from the adjoined bathroom.

(Sam hovered over him, eyes wide with worry as Osmond crawled up the last few steps to his bed, too small to even try to help him. Still, it warmed him that Sam cared-- it warmed him that Sam proceeded to dress his sewn wounds, usually quick hands shaking and usually sharp eyes muddled with fear. He squeezed Sam’s hand before falling asleep, and got a kiss to the knuckles in return.)

“I’ve got you,” Oz said instead.

“Yeah,” Seth replied, “but that won’t reduce your idiocy, would it?”

The sounds of scissors cutting sharply through his trousers filled the silence, and Oz grimaced at the gore and the state of his prosthetic. Looked worse than it was, sure, but still pretty horrifying to the eyes. Seth scrunched up his nose before disappearing into the bathroom to return with a warm, wet towel and cleaning off the blood without a sound. The stench of iron in such an enclosed space made bile crawl up his throat, but Oz laughed instead.

(“Stop moving,” Sam said, whacking his hand with the corner of a book. Osmond shot him a hurt look. “Your legs are still in a bad condition.”

“I can’t stand being so still, Sam. It’s _mind-numbing._ ”

“Too bad. Now stop moving or I’ll make you porridge for dinner.”)

“You’re so harsh to me.”

Seth hummed, hands steady as he removed Oz’s leg. The edges of his socks were tinged with deep red. Seth wiped his stump clean before throwing some pills at him. Oz swallowed them without a second thought.

The bed shifted and suddenly Seth was sitting by his head, damp hand threading through his hair. Oz tilted his head closer to his palm.

“Your suicidal tendency was showing.” Oz’s lips cracked into a self deprecating smile, but calloused fingertips smoothed it back out. “But you’ve got me, I supposed.”

(Sam’s eyes lingered on the same page for a moment too long before he looked up, eyes flashing with hurt and fear and worry and-- and something indescribable, like love. “But I also need you to stay alive, too, so don’t go around getting yourself killed.”

Osmond laughed, head light with painkillers. “We’ve got each other.”)

A hand reaching up. A head bending low.

“Yeah,” Oz breathed into Seth’s lips, and

(his eyes closed.)

 

 


End file.
